


Convincing Clint Barton

by RoseDemica



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 2013 Sister Agents, 2014 The Fall of Loki, 2016 The Rise of Thanos, Clint joining Shield, F/M, First Meeting, Implied Sexual Content, Introducing my Main OC, Mentions of Phil Coulson - Freeform, Start of a love story, mentions of Nick Fury - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 12:55:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20243221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseDemica/pseuds/RoseDemica
Summary: The moment where, in my universe, Clint Barton was convinced to join S.H.I.E.L.D. Minor mention of Natalia Romanova (Natasha Romanoff) pre-SHIELD days. It's also when Clint meets the main female OC for the first time and the start of their relationship.





	Convincing Clint Barton

**Author's Note:**

> In 2012 a movie was released that I didn’t realise was going to change my life. I’m sure a lot of people can relate to. Marvel created a universe that would inspire so, so many of us. Myself included. I was writing before Avengers was released, by a year or two. But with the release of that first movie, after I first saw it, sitting with my best friends, I found a love like I have never felt before. 
> 
> And I started writing, well, I started writing in 2013 according to my google drive information. Nine years later, and well, I still haven’t finished. With every new movie that comes out, I start again, I change things, change people, adapt. You can see how well that's worked out for me. (Well, you can’t, I never finished anything, so I haven’t shared it anywhere). 
> 
> Well, that's about to change. I’ve finally accepted that I will not finish this story, not any time soon. They pump out new movies quicker than I can adapt to the changes. So! I’ve decided to share it with you all anyway. Maybe that will be the kick I need to actually finish this story, and if not, then at least other people can enjoy the last nine years of fanfic work. 
> 
> The reason for this long-winded explanation? 
> 
> TLDR:
> 
> This fic has 4 separate versions! From different periods of writing. I will tag them all so you know which is which, and follow whichever ones you want. 
> 
> 2013-2013 Sister Agents.  
2014- 2015 The Fall of Loki  
2016- NOW The Rise of Thanos (Most stuff fits in here!)  
Alternate Universe stuff/ aka stuff that clashes with The Rise of Thanos, but I worked hard on, and want to keep anyway. 
> 
> I’ll loop all the same timeline ones together in a series, although they don’t have to be read that way. 
> 
> So yeah, that's all from me, let's get to the fun stuff.

It was small at first, a glimpse of gold in his crosshairs. He saw it every time he took a shot after he went rogue, occasionally when he worked for the military. It became almost like a beacon of hope. He started to look for it. 

Golden eyes haunted him at night, awake he'd call it an angel, his nightmares would call it a demon. 

He started imagining its face, how it would look, only two things ever stayed the same, she was a female, with beautiful bright gold eyes.

He was surprised the first day he truly saw her, long brunette locks with golden highlights rolled in loose ringlets down her back. Light olive-toned skin, suited her perfectly, in his opinion. Hourglass figure barely hidden beneath the figure-hugging clothes she wore. He could tell she was highly muscled and well trained, she had an aura of confidence about her, but she was far too aware. If it were an ordinary mission, she'd be a threat he never saw coming, but this wasn't an ordinary mission, and he always saw better from a distance. He let loose his arrow, hitting his target through the eye and eliciting high pitched screams from his targets female companions. He would never forget the moment she looked at him, raised an eyebrow and mouthed 'that the best you got?' He laughed, taking it as a challenge, to impress the young woman who always seemed to be there.

He also remembered the one time she wasn't. The day he was forced to take a mission he didn't want. The day his target was her. A picture was handed to him, he pretended to study the photo, convincing his employer he didn't know her, before turning the job down. She meant too much to him, a symbol he couldn't end without turning to a place he couldn't ever return from. His employer quickly 'persuaded' him otherwise.

He couldn't track her, no one could. Eyewitnesses would place her at any three random points at one time. So Hawkeye did what he did best, he took another job, and waited for her. Sure enough, she showed up, she always did. Nothing if not predictable. 

"So, is the hit for Tierré, Vaile, or myself?" Clint jumped as she plopped herself down on the roof next to him, barely flinching as he recovered, grabbing a knife and pressing it against her jugular vein. No one ever managed to get the drop on him, not since the circus. No one until her.

"Who?" He asked, dropping his arm and watching as she took a bite out of the apple she was holding.

"The hit. Surely you've realised by now. I'm an identical triplet. Rare, but we exist. You've seen my sisters, got them to fill in a few times. When I was otherwise occupied." She shrugged, taking another bite. Wordlessly he handed her a photo from his back pocket, the figure in the photo looked exactly like her, but they both knew it wasn't. Before taking a moment to memorize the sound of her voice. It was light and musical, almost what he would call bell-like, it fitted in perfectly with the angel he believed her to be.

"Vaile, of course, I should have known. I'll tell her to fake her death and go underground. Can I borrow one of these?" She didn't even wait for a reply, plucking an arrow from his quiver as she stood. Handing him the photo back with a smirk.

"Wait-" He called after her as she started to walk away, he had far too many questions and no answers.

"This isn't the last you'll see of me Archer. I promise you that much." She threw her apple up, and without even looking he fired his bow, knowing he would hit his target. By the time it hit the ground, she was long gone.

A few days later a body appeared in the city, his arrow through her heart. He received payment for both jobs, congratulated for all his hard work. It was the last time he saw her for a few months.

  
  


"Thanks." One word made him jump, having enough control to refrain from shooting as he glanced over his shoulder. She was spinning his arrow in hand, before gently easing it back into his full quiver, and sitting beside him. Offering an apple as she took a bite of her own. Hesitantly he accepted, putting his bow down to cradle it. Apples were a rare treat at the circus, and even now he could afford them he was still reluctant to get them often.

"The only problem is, now you're on our radar. I'd recommend laying low, find something less... obvious. I like you, and I'd hate to be sent after you with a kill order." Her voice softened, and something in him begged him to believe her.

"Our?" He couldn't help but ask, wanting to know more about the beautiful woman who wasn't afraid of him.

"I work for the government, well, the government likes to think we work for them. It's a bit more complicated than that. I would explain, but then I'd have to kill you, and I already said I rather like you." She smiled at him, "Oops, there goes my mark. Later Hawk." She bit into the apple, winking at him, before using both hands to vault herself off the roof. He followed her with his gaze, only to see her vanish. The half-eaten apple left in front of his targets window. When he left, there was an arrow through the heart of both.

After that, she became as rare and elusive as his favourite treat. Often the only sign of her was an apple left at his perch, or on the window of his targets house, reminding him. After that, he never felt alone again.

He was startled awake one night, pulling out the gun from under his pillow, pointing it at the silhouette figure. He recognized her golden eyes as she turned to face him.

"Why didn't you do as I asked?" She whispered sadly. If he didn't know better he would say she sounded betrayed.

"The kill order came through this morning. You better run Barton." She continued, realising he wasn't going to say a word, running her hand through her hair as she went to leave. His bed right beside the door, and as she walked past, he reached out and grabbed her. With a gentle tug she was in his lap, and without waiting for her permission, he kissed her. A hand on her back holding her to him. Her hands tangled in his hair as she kissed him back.

They knew one would end up killing the other eventually, but for now, it was just them, no bounty on his head, and she was a regular person, and dammit, they liked each other.

She was gone by morning, he woke alone. With an apple sitting on the bedside table. He took a moment to shower, before packing his bag, and never looking back.

He knew the moment she was close, an apple always appeared at his safe house, he would always be gone within minutes. He almost wondered if she enjoyed the little game.

The next time she caught up with him was different. He awoke in the middle of the night to a loud crunch shooting up, the weapon from under the pillow, in hand, only to recognize the figure lazing on his couch, signature apple in hand.

"You coming to bed or what?" He muttered, dropping his arm and flopping back onto the bed.

"They've pulled the junior agents off your case, and the senior ones that followed. They've given you to Vaile." She spoke, standing and discarding the half-eaten apple. 

"So if you have an ace up your sleeve, now's the time to use it." She crossed to the bed, straddling and pinning him with ease. 

"What if you're my ace?" He whispered, freeing his hands and resting them on her hips. 

"Then you best hope I've got a few more tricks to spare." She smirked at him, knowing he'd be able to see despite the poor lighting. He chuckled, before pulling her body down to his.

"Oh I'm sure you do." He whispered against her skin.

He awoke again with her curled into his side, golden eyes simply watching him.

"You stayed." He murmured sleepily, blue eyes resting on her before they shut again.

"You had a death grip around my waist every time I even thought about moving. Decided it would be easier to stay." She replied softly, attempting to sit up, the arm he had around her tightened involuntarily. As if proving her point.

"Relax Barton. I'm just going to go make breakfast." She whispered, pressing her lips to his temple. He raised an eyebrow, forcing his eyes open to see the blunt honesty on her face.

"Sounds good." He forced himself to let her go. Watching as she picked up his discarded shirt, sliding into it, fingers doing it up with the same ease she had undone it with hours earlier, sashaying towards the motels kitchenette. Teasing him as he watched every movement she made, pulling a bag of food out of the fridge he hadn't realised was there. He watched her as she cooked, humming to herself softly. He recognized the tune, it was a lullaby his mother used to sing to him at night.

"How do you know that song?" He demanded quietly, and she froze, thinking quickly, wondering what to tell him, how he would react. He noticed the emotions she allowed to cross her features, regretting his question, but refusing to back down and take it back. She owed him a few answers.

"My sisters and I, we have abilities beyond that of a normal person. My hearing is abnormal, Tierré demanded tests, figured out no matter how far away Vaile and I got from each other. I could always hear her." She eventually started speaking, reluctantly telling him the truth. 

"When I was younger, there was a woman, I don't know whom, but she would sing it, every night at 1700. Then, one night it just stopped, and I haven't heard it since. Scoured the globe too." She frowned, serving up two plates and carrying them back towards the bed.

"It was my mom. Always said it was a song made just for me." Clint whispered, pulling her down to his side. It was only thanks to years of training that she was able to stop food from spilling everywhere.

"I can't remember the words." She admitted softly, handing him a plate as well as a knife and fork, before settling herself down properly, watching as he looked at the meal before him untrustingly.

"It won't kill you. We both know I've had more than enough chances, and poison is not my style." He watched her as she took a few bites, making sure nothing happened to her, before tucking in himself. 

"Thanks." He offered, as she took his finished plate and headed back to the kitchen dumping them both in the sink. As he watched she started cleaning, tiding up from breakfast, and throwing away his leftovers from the day before.

He was tempted to abandon the bed and go to her side when she abandoned the sink entirely, chewing her lower lip nervously. Not realising how it affected him, he was half out of bed when things changed.

"What do you mean Vaile got injured? She's supposed to be hunting Barton!" She touched her ear as she spoke, startling him slightly. A slight pause before she spoke again.

"You can't put me on this case." She didn't stop the emotion that bleed into her tone. Practically begging the person she was talking to.

"No! You don't understand! I can't do this! It will not end well, not for anyone." A slight pause, waiting for the response. 

"Yes Sir." She pulled her finger from her ear, glancing at him. He carefully tightened his grip on the weapon he had pulled out from under his pillow. Concerned it was her that would be after him, this wasn't the way he'd pictured his death.

"You go underground, you hear? No arrows, normal civilian life. Once I leave you're my target. I'll have no choice. Find yourself a new ace." She pointed at him, watching him closely, waiting for his reaction, crossing the room she straddled his lap. He tugged her closer, his lips claiming hers almost violently. They had precious few hours left together, and they would make the most of it.

This time, he took her advice to heart. Teaming up with another rogue assassin, he abandoned his signature bow. Kept under the radar as much as he could while still earning a living. His new partner didn't understand why they ran every time he saw an apple on the ledge of their targets house. Couldn't comprehend exactly whom was after them. All Clint could remember was the way her highly muscular body felt under his hands, the ease she pinned him with even as he fought her hold. He knew the threat that was after him.

It took two years, he believed she dragged her heels refused to look for him, until she appeared. He had dropped off his new perch, landing in the alleyway in a crouch. She was leaning against one of the walls, tossing an apple up and down.

"Hey." He forced himself to greet, reaching for his weapon, and ignoring primal instincts that him that screamed to pin her to the wall and claim her as his.

"Just Hey?" She turned those stunning golden eyes on him, and he couldn't stop himself. He was at her side in three long strides. Hands on her hips, body crushing hers as his lips claimed hers desperately. He heard her quiet moan as she kissed him back, arms wrapping around him tightly. She missed him too, not that she'd say it.

All too soon she shoved him away violently, trying to catch her breath as he did the same. He watched her closely, noting the various cuts that lined her body, torn clothing where clearly there had been more. She was resting most her weight on her left leg, wincing as she stepped closer.

"Ran into your new pet assassin at the safe house, figured I'd wait for you there. Don't worry, she's still alive, just unconscious." She shrugged tossing him the apple in her hand.

"Never believed the rumours that the famous Black Widow and Hawkeye had teamed up." A casual remark as he took a bite.

"If you're going to kill me, please stop stalling." He cut her off, talking around his mouthful. He wouldn't kill her, and they both knew it, she had ensured that much when she became his symbol of hope and light.

"I figured you needed an ace." She pulled two thick envelopes out of her pockets, looking at them carefully, weighing up her options before she explained its contents.

"These are two brand new identities, one for the Widow, one for yourself. They come on the condition that you both never kill again. You just live out your life normally. There is a house in your name, a considerable fund to keep you going." She held out the envelopes towards him, but he just crossed his arms defiantly.

"We both know that a deck has more than one ace." He pointed out, she had more cards up his sleeve and he knew it. She wasn't the type to go in without several backup plans. He wasn't the type to jump headfirst into things.

"My mission is to kill you, but I think that would be such a waste of talent." A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, but she smothered it quickly. He raised one eyebrow, letting her know that he'd noticed, appreciating the compliment while he had the chance.

"Could you? Kill me." She looked away from him, gazing at the cobblestone street below her feet, and he had his answer. 

"No, you know I can't. But if I don't have you by tomorrow, they're pulling me off the case. You'll be the first mission I ever fail." She raised her eyes back to his. "I have one other option, I could take you in. You could become one of us." She laid what appeared to be her final card. He knew then she was serious, that she had done everything in her power to save him. She was grasping at straws and he knew it. They couldn't run forever.

"Us?" He questioned, wondering if she would finally tell him exactly whom she worked for. Give him slightly more of a fighting chance should he decide to accept her first officer.

"Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division." She answered, watching his look of confusion. He'd never even heard a whisper of them before. "We're working on the name. Essentially we're an organisation designed to protect the world from things it's not ready to know yet. You'd be a Field Agent of course, but there are technical analysts, weapons engineers, Pilots, Doctors, Medical and otherwise. All sorts." A shrug, as though she wasn't letting go of one of the best-kept secrets in the world.

"I'm a killer. I can't do anything else, I can't help save the world." He turned down both options with a sentence.

"How many innocent lives would I save if I killed you now?" She asked, keeping her tone soft and light, but he felt the chill down his spine anyway, the words forcing the hair on the back of his neck stand to attention. "Give me the answer I want, and I'll go, figure out a way to distract the top dogs. You'll be free." Clint didn't answer her. 

"Or come with me, kill one to save hundreds. It's much more rewarding." Silently he thought it over in his head, tossing up his options. "Please. Just don't make me kill you." Tears filled her golden eyes and he caved. He crossed to her side tugging her into his arms, simply holding her tightly.

"I'll come with you." He whispered into her hair. "It can't be too bad, the staff are pretty sexy." She laughed against his chest, leaning into him heavily, taking the weight off her injured leg.

"About that, my adoptive father is the Director, so this, whatever we are, Stays behind closed doors. I might not kill you, but they would." He chuckled, agreeing silently.

"Dad? I found him. Totally by accident. I'm bringing him in. We'll meet at the extraction point at dawn. Oh, and bring medical. I think I broke my leg again." He barely realised she raised her hand to her ear, speaking to an unknown third party. 

"You found the Hawk? Did he hurt you?" A male voice responded instantly. Clint wondered if he was supposed to overhear the reply.

"No, he didn't, bodyguard threw me off a roof, screwed up the landing. The Hawk did exactly what I said he would. I told father not to put me on this case, that I couldn't kill him. He can deal with the backlash. See you tomorrow dad." She terminated the transmission before the older man could reply.

"What did you want to do with your last night of freedom?" She asked quietly, her voice muffled by his chest as she buried her face.

"I can think of a few things." He chuckled, before lifting her bridal style, careful not to jostle her right leg too much, trying to ignore the hiss of pain that alerted him to his failure.

"But first, let's see to that leg." He started walking, forcing his gait to be smooth and gentle. She wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling her face into the small space she'd created. Clint couldn't help but smile, she trusted him.

He took them back to the safe house, looking at the semi-conscious form of the Black Widow on the floor, the mess surrounding her. Green eyes flicked up towards him, and she scrambled backwards realising who he was holding.

"Not much further." He whispered to the woman in his arms, walking through the mess and laying her down on the bed he'd claimed as his own.

"You still got that vodka?" She winced at the movement, trying not to show how much it hurt her. While proving she'd seen his few belongings.

"Nat." He glanced over his shoulder at the redhead, asking her to grab it for him.

"Relax Widow, you're not my target." A dark chuckle that quickly turned into a cry of pain.

"Didn't stop you." The woman he'd called 'Nat' spat back. 

"It did. You would be dead if you were her target. Now get the damn drink so I can set these bones!" Clint growled, stopping the argument before it could spiral any further out of control. Shocked, she did as she was asked, pulling a bottle of vodka out of the cupboard and cautiously walking near. Clint took the bottle, ripping out the top, and passing it to her.

"Not the medical care you're used to." He started to apologise, but she cut him off.

"I've had worse on less." Golden eyes flicked to the Black Widow. "Go, you have until dawn before my people arrive." Natalia had already started moving before she finished speaking. "And Widow? As far as I'm concerned, this never happened. I have no clue what you look like. Don't give me a reason to change it." The deadly assassin nodded once, pausing in the doorway to glance back at the man she'd been working with.

"I promised I'd join her side. I'm tired of all of this Nat. Not to mention it's better than a bullet." He pleaded with her to understand, that he wasn't picking one woman over the other, yet all he got was a nod as she vanished out the door. He wondered briefly if he’d ever see her again, but something told him that he would. 

  
  


As dawn reached up to caress the sky, the two assassins woke tangled up with each other. In silence, she cooked breakfast, as he packed all he owned into a single duffle bag. He felt his eyes on her as he tore apart the roof, and brought down the bag containing his bow, quiver, and arrows. Gently putting it aside to accept the plate of food offered to him. 

“Last meal as a free man Barton. Then you’re officially government property.” She teased, he paused for a second, before frowning, he had finally got his freedom, from his father, the circus, any person who thought they could command him. He was giving it all up. “Hey, hey.” Suddenly she was kneeling in front of him, her hand on his cheek, piercing golden eyes meeting his.

“Deep breath and I’ll explain what’s going to happen.” He gasped for air, taking a moment to calm himself. “I brought you in, so they’ll make you my responsibility. You’ll have to talk to some psychiatrists, they’ll want to be sure that they can trust you before they arm you. They know what you can do, but they’ll put you through a bunch of tests anyway. You have to repeat all of them any time you get back from a mission, just because they like keeping an eye on us field agents.” Golden eyes rolled as she spoke, making him laugh. Clearly, she was not a fan of the procedure.

“Then I presume you’ll be confined to base for a bit, full access to training rooms, but no active missions. Then you’ll be assigned a handler, and you’ll be back in the field. I’ll make sure you can retire whenever you want, full benefits. They’ll probably argue for a minimum amount of time served first.” It sounded like she only knew half of what was going to happen when he surrendered himself. 

“Presume? Probably?” She looked away for a second, before looking back.

“To be honest, no one’s ever recruited their mark before. They’re kinda making this up as they go along. I can hear what Papa and the council are arguing about, so I have half their plan.” She moved her hand to run through his hair. “No matter what, I will fight for you okay? I’m bringing you in, you’re my responsibility, and they can rip that from my cold dead hands.” She smirked, giving him some semblance of confidence.

“And it’ll be over my father’s, and sisters dead bodies that they do that. You’ll be just fine Clint, I promise you. I’m your ace remember?” She dropped her hands to his and squeezed them gently. 

“You’re my angel.” Clint lifted a hand to his lips and kissed it. 

“I don’t know if I’d go that far. Eat up Archer boy, we’re already late for our ride. Dad’s getting antsy.” She moved up to give him a long kiss. Clint watched as she turned, a finger to her ear so she could speak to someone else. 

He finished eating, before shouldering his duffle bags, and taking her hand in his. Allowing her to lead him into a whole new way of life. 

And he didn’t even know her name.

  
  
  
  



End file.
